The Retired Assassin’s Guide to Country Gardening by Naomi Kuttner

Eight of us met to discuss this book, and what an evening of surprises it turned out to be.

Some members of the group had decided not to read it because it simply wasn’t “their sort of book” and the pre-meeting vibe led some to assume “the more bookish of us will pull it apart.” Another confessed she had warned a fellow member that it was “no great work of literature – it’s no Dickens!” In short, we thought the book would 'bomb'. 

In fact, the “bookish” amongst us were already swapping copies of the second book in the series. One happily described it as “frothy”, another admitted, “I like an easy read”, and before long there were smiles all round as we realised just how much fun we were having.

As we got to know the characters, we were won over by this first book in the trilogy. It was described as hilarious, gloriously cheesy, refreshingly different, a humorous romp and, above all, a very pleasant surprise. Several of us commented that it had shades of Richard Osman.

Our verdict on the characters?

• Dante became increasingly human. The smiles, the cat and his growing vulnerability all helped to soften him.
• Charlie was simply endearing.
• The ghosts divided opinion. Some of us loved them, others were more cynical, but we agreed the story simply wouldn’t have worked without them.
• Inspector Williams and Eleanor had just enough un frisson between them to make us think the Inspector may yet grow on us.
• The AA mentor was universally loved. Both the character and the concept of Assassin Anonymous meetings were inspired.
• The Hells Angels were a wonderfully random addition.
• The Council turned out to be shockingly corrupt.
• Ted received an emphatic collective BOO!

The ghosts sparked one of those wonderfully unexpected Ashendon Book Group conversations. Do we believe in ghosts? Stories were shared of unusual or unexpected visions, sounds and feelings. Even our own pub featured, with accounts of someone brushing past and of an electric candle spectacularly exploding, witnessed by two people who would not be described as fanciful.

That, in turn, led us onto another local story about The Red Lion in Ashendon once being used as the village courthouse. I’ll add that tale at the end of this review.

Then came Sue the Sleuth. Our resident eagle-eye spotted what she described as a “mahoosive” error that left her fuming for several days.

Drum roll…

After Dante’s tyres are slashed, he tells Eleanor to “bring four tyres.”

Four tyres? Surely, he needed four wheels - unless they had tyre-fitting equipment handy, or this retired assassin planned to fit them with his teeth!

It’s the sort of detail most readers would skim straight past, but not our Sue. We all agreed it was quite an oversight… unless, of course, the author is secretly a cyclist and, in which case, it was a forgivable error.

Any book that persuades a room full of readers – including several who began rather sceptically – to immediately seek out the sequel has clearly done something right. Naturally, that led us to want to know more about the author.

One of our group remembered reading that Naomi Kuttner – who also cites Richard Osman among her influences – wrote her first novel while raising newborn twins. She described the experience as writing "in between keeping my twins alive", a wonderfully honest image of life at the time. It perhaps also explains her tongue-in-cheek observation that sleep deprivation and small children are enough to make anyone understand the appeal of fictional murder!

Would we recommend this book? Well, any book that can persuade a room full of readers - some initially rather sceptical - to immediately seek out the sequel has clearly done something right.

All in all, this was a refreshingly funny, thoroughly entertaining page-turner, and a perfect reminder that you really should never judge a book by its cover. Several of us arrived expecting very little and left wondering how soon we could get our hands on Book Two. That’s probably the best recommendation any book can receive.

Our next read is The Names by Florence Knapp, and we will meet at The Ash Tree to discuss this book on Thursday, September 24^th at 8pm.

As promised, here is a little Ashendon history footnote - nothing to do with pub ghosts but it is quite a story in itself …

Our discussion about ghosts wandered - as our conversations often do - onto local history.

Whilst researching the history of our own pub, Teresa discovered that The Red Lion, Ashendon, once served as the Ashendon Petty Sessions, where local magistrates heard cases.

One particularly colourful case was reported in the Aylesbury News of 22 February 1840.

The report tells of an extraordinary falling-out between the outspoken Vicar of Long Crendon, the Rev. Thomas Hayton, and Dr Lupton of Thame. Angry words, accusations, a raised stick, a brandished whip all featured in the evidence. The desired outcome was the right to hold a duel. After a five-hour hearing at The Red Lion, the magistrates failed to reach a decision.

It’s good to think that, nearly two centuries later, we now gather in the same building to debate fictional misdemeanours instead. The transcript from Aylesbury News below makes for an entertaining read, in its own right!

 

I wanted to understand the deeper story, so here is what I found.

Behind the 1840 Aylesbury News reporting on Henry Lupton reveals an incredibly messy, overlapping cocktail of medical corruption, physical assault, and class warfare typical of Victorian local politics.

The two separate but connected disputes that caused the newspaper to launch this scathing public attack provide context on what went down:

1. The Medical Election Dispute: The Battle for Thame Union

The friction began under the New Poor Law of 1834. Before this, wealthy parish landowners personally paid doctors to look after the poor. The new law stripped away this power and handed it to "Boards of Guardians"- corporate local authorities who put parish medical contracts out to public bid. Henry Lupton and his medical partner/stepson, Henry Wells Reynolds, were entrenched Tory elites in Thame. They treated the local medical contract as an entitlement. However, a local coalition of Whig reformers and independent guardians successfully voted them out of the Thame Poor Law Union contract.

The Fallout: Lupton’s faction lost a highly lucrative, prestigious medical income stream to rival doctors.

The Grudge: Lupton and his Tory allies blamed the Whig political machine - specifically the surrounding landowning Whig gentry - for orchestrating what they saw as an "insulting" professional demotion.

2. The Assault Case: Bad Blood at the Quarter Sessions

The petty legal case mentioned in the Aylesbury News was the culmination of this political pressure cooking over into real life. In 1840, Henry Lupton was brought before the Buckinghamshire Quarter Sessions on charges of assault. Lupton, known locally for a short fuse, had physically confronted a local political enemy or poor law officer in public.

The Aylesbury News - which was a radically pro-Reform, pro-Whig newspaper published by Robert Gibbs - practically threw a party in print. Because the Duke of Buckingham (owner of Wotton House) ran the county's Tory political machine like an absolute dictator, the Whig editors used Lupton's criminal behaviour as a stick to beat the Duke with.

The newspaper essentially told its readers: "Look at the thuggish behaviour of the Duke's loyal local Tories. Henry Lupton, a supposedly respectable gentleman and author, is nothing more than a common brawler when he doesn't get his way.

Why Wotton House is Named: The explicit mention of Wotton House in a story about an unrelated Thame surgeon was purely a satirical political hit. The Duke's youngest son, Lord George Grenville (Lord Nugent), was actually a famous Whig radical who frequently broke ranks with his conservative family. By framing Lupton's legal drama right against the shadow of the Wotton House estate, the newspaper was mocking the elite family's inability to control their own local party partisans and highlighting the deep hypocrisy of the Tory "gentlemen."

 

Whale Fall by Elizabeth O'Connor

Eleven of us met to discuss Whale Fall and, as always, the conversation took us in some unexpected directions.

When a whale dies at sea, it slowly sinks to the ocean floor, becoming the centre of an entire ecosystem. This whale, however, does not fall – it is stranded on the beach, beyond saving, and is left by the small island community to die and decompose.

We spent some time discussing this. Why were the islanders so drawn to the whale, yet made no attempt either to save it or use it for food? We concluded that this reflected the realities of island life and the community's acceptance of the natural order. Some of us also wondered whether the whale itself was an allegory for the island – isolated, slowly declining and clinging on despite an uncertain future. Others felt the whale was there as a timeline or a parallel to the unfolding story. 

Opinions on island life were divided. Some of us found it enchanting, while others found it bleak. Comments ranged from, "I could have happily lived there – I was born in the wrong era!" to, "I found it rather depressing; it left me feeling quite low."

Whatever our feelings about the setting, we all agreed that Elizabeth O'Connor's writing is beautifully evocative. It is a quiet, slow-moving novel, but one that completely immerses the reader. We liked the short chapters, which made the book easy to dip into and kept the story moving despite its gentle pace.

Set during the final four months of 1938 on a tiny island just a few miles off the Welsh coast, the story follows 18-year-old Manod, who lives with her fisherman father and younger sister, Llinos, who speaks only Welsh and is described as being almost "half-elf". Their mother died several years earlier, and her story is revealed only towards the end of the novel, adding another layer to the family's history.

Manod has taught herself English from magazines and has a talent for embroidery, but beyond that her experience of the world is limited. Having spent her whole life on the island, she is sheltered, naïve and vulnerable.

The beached whale brings unexpected visitors: Edward and Joan, two anthropologists from Oxford University. They employ Manod to help with their research, but none of us warmed to them. We felt they exploited both Manod and the islanders, manipulating situations to make the community appear more mysterious and exotic to enhance their own work, with little regard for the consequences for those whose lives they were documenting.

Life on the island revolves around the church, its traditions and its close-knit community. We were particularly fascinated by the tradition of the Mari Lwyd. Yet change is inevitable. The population is no longer sustainable, young people are already leaving, and the looming threat of the Second World War raises fears of occupation. Manod herself begins to wonder whether her future lies beyond the island.

Several of us reflected on how remarkable it is that a place lying only a few miles from the mainland could feel so isolated.

Our discussion also turned to other remote island communities that some members have visited, particularly the Blasket Islands, abandoned in 1953, and St Kilda, whose final residents left in 1930, famously having to drown their sheepdogs before boarding the evacuation boat. Both provide poignant reminders of communities that ultimately became unsustainable, much like the future we sensed awaited Manod's island.

Would we recommend this book? Yes - it is interesting and gives an insight into community and social history. The writing is great. 

Elizabeth O'Connor has spoken in interviews about both the novel and its setting. When asked to describe Whale Fall in just three words, she chose Wild, Atmospheric and Elegiac. Having discussed the book, it's hard to disagree.

Click here for an interview with Elizabeth.

Book Choices July 2026

 The Names by Florence Knapp

It is 1987, and in the wake of a great storm, Cora sets out with her young daughter to register the birth of her son. Her husband expects her to follow tradition and call the baby after him - but is it right for her child to inherit his name from generations of domineering men? Her choice will shape the course of their lives.

Seven years later, her son is Bear, a name chosen by his sister, hoping he will grow up to be brave and big-hearted. Or he is Julian, the name his mother set her heart on, keen for him to become his own person. Or he is Gordon, named after his father and raised in his cruel image - but is there still a chance to break the mould?

Powerfully moving and full of hope, this is the story of three names, three versions of a life, and the infinite possibilities that a single decision can spark.

One of Us by Elizabeth Day

In this compulsive story of betrayal, old bonds and buried scandals, one British establishment family comes face to face with the consequences of privilege and the true cost of power.

Martin and Ben were friends for decades — best friends, Martin would have said — before the terrible events at Ben’s 40th birthday party tore them apart. So when Martin receives a surprise invitation back into the inner sanctum of the dazzling Fitzmaurice family after seven years of silence, he can’t resist the chance to get his revenge.

Ben has risen through the ranks of power, and is now touted as the next Prime Minister. But Martin can’t help but notice certain flies in the ointment… Ben’s wife, Serena, for instance, whose privileged existence is beginning to feel like a gilded cage. Or their daughter, Cosima, an environmental activist fighting against everything her parents once stood for. Or the disgraced MP Richard Take, determined to make his big comeback. And then there’s Fliss, the Fitzmaurice black sheep, whose untimely death sparks more suspicion than closure. Through their intertwined stories, we see a family – and a nation – unravelling under the weight of its secrets.

With everyone watching, the stage is set for a reckoning. It's time for Martin and Ben to confront what love truly means when everything—family, power, and loyalty—is on the line.

Frankie by Graham Norton

Always on the periphery, looking on, young Frankie Howe was never quite sure enough of herself to take centre stage - after all, life had already judged her harshly. Now old, Frankie finds it easier to forget the life that came before.

Then Damian, a young Irish carer, arrives at her London flat, there to keep an eye on her as she recovers from a fall. A memory is sparked, and the past crackles into life as Damian listens to the story Frankie has kept stored away all these years.

Travelling from post-war Ireland to 1960s New York - a city full of art, larger-than-life

characters and turmoil - Frankie shares a world in which friendship and chance encounters collide. A place where, for a while, life blazes with an intensity that can't last but will perhaps live on in other ways and in other people. But as Frankie's past slowly emerges, her spirit and endurance are revealed as undeniable . . . and unforgettable.